. . . .

everyone else loves her face too

sitting in the dark whiskey drunk

and i wanna be your girlfriend

they turn a strange amber green

thinking about you

passing fields of dead grass

bob whispering in my ear

severed roots wrapped up in the beard you wore

cracked hands, blushed eyes

crying into your shoulder

i can't remember which one of me has told you what

and where are you tonight, baby blue?

i knew i'd bite straight thro my tongue

wishing for your shaking hands around my newly defined hips

writing by hand hurts me so badly

i'm trying to be punk again nik and owen at my back

blue and green with red in the middle

( barely )

you don't have to read in between the lines,

. . . . ,

it's all about you.